


I'll burn the city down (just to show you the light)

by hotlikerobots (hellostranger)



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst, But with a happy ending, Dream Sequence, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Erica Reyes - Freeform, Hurt Derek, Hurt/Comfort, I know right? I swear it'll make sense, Laura Hale - Freeform, M/M, Mentions of the Hale fire, Post-Nogitsune, Vernon Boyd - Freeform, mentions of humpy dumpy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-17
Updated: 2014-03-17
Packaged: 2018-01-16 01:46:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,737
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1327246
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hellostranger/pseuds/hotlikerobots
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It had been eight days, and Derek hadn't woken up.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'll burn the city down (just to show you the light)

For whatever reason, this wasn’t the ending that everyone was expecting.

The nogitsune was gone; after abducting Lydia, the pack did not hesitate to charge in with all they have. They weren’t as menacing as they would’ve wanted, far from a force to be reckoned with, what with Isaac and the twins compromised and Derek on the brink of not being able to piece himself—his true, _forgiving_ self—back together.

But one of their own had been taken away, probably getting tortured in ways only a sadistic, dark spirit like a nogitsune was capable of. They had to do something and they did, even with their strengths chipped and hope crumbling around the edges.

Winning was something the pack had not felt in a long time, nor was it something they expected in this ordeal. Stiles couldn’t even remember how it exactly happened. He was too fixated pressing down on Derek’s stab wound, his warm blood sipping through the cracks of his fingers and he’d never felt cold, so cold that his hands couldn’t stop shaking for days.

It had been eight days, to be exact. Not at all a time sufficient to heal all wounds the pack had suffered through, but he could feel everyone moving around him, still. Scott, Chris and the Sheriff had talked to Deaton about everyone’s condition, about Kira’s family staying for good, as their ally. He’d caught a glimpse of Allison not letting go of Lydia for what seemed like a whole day, whispering and shedding tears and they’ve both been so strong, and slow as it may, they were healing.

Everyone had been.

His gaze fell onto Derek. The operating table in Deaton’s clinic was barely supporting his body, but hospitals weren’t exactly a luxury that they have right now. He’d been patched up, and the wound had stopped bleeding. But he wasn’t healing, not completely anyway. His pulse was faint, and with each passing day that Derek’s eyes stayed shut, Stiles felt his resolve weakening, thinning.

It had been eight days. And Stiles felt his wounds hadn’t closed a damn inch.

 

\---

 

The moment Derek caught a glimpse of Laura laughing while being mobbed by a pack of Kindergartens, he knew he had to be dreaming.

This wasn’t the first time that he had dreamt of his family, of Laura and his mother, completely unharmed and whole. And waking up always felt like prodding at fresh wounds, but he’d gotten used to it.

It was only when he found himself wearing a costume when he realized that his wasn’t just a dream, but also a memory. Laura had once dragged him to a play in Cora’s Kindergarten. It was a gift for his younger sister, not just for her birthday but for being able to shift flawlessly in the last full moon. He remembered it being a terrible day, if he were being honest. He had worn a ridiculous King’s costume ( _It looks great, Der! Cora couldn’t stop talking about Humpy Dumpy for days on end, can you please just do this for her? I’ll buy you ice cream after!_ ). He also remembered having to pluck every clingy toddler off of him after their presentation. But Cora had been delirious, talking miles away even after weeks.

He missed her, terribly so. His missed the Cora from all those years ago, the one with a missing front tooth and freckled cheeks and a smile that could light up a room. He still had Cora, something he was extremely thankful for, but she was different now. Angrier, more bitter than any 17-year old he knew, or any 17-year old should be.

 _You mean more like you._ A whisper said.

It sounded suspiciously like Stiles’ voice.

 

\---

 

Scott and Stiles had gone to Derek’s loft to pick up a few things. Peter was there, which was not very surprising. What’s surprising was how he’d tossed a bag of Derek’s clothes their way, saying “I know you kids are busy, so I’ve taken the liberty of packing for you. It only took a minute, my nephew doesn’t really have varied style choices.”

The old Stiles would’ve appreciated the humor, at least. But it had been eleven days, and Derek had not even fluttered an eyelash.

Instead, he hastily picked up the bag and turned to leave, only to notice the chess board—his chess board—on Derek’s table. Some pieces were in place, some were not, and it was obvious that Derek may have been trying to replicate the one he left in his own room.

Peter told them as much. “He was trying to figure out why his name was on one of the pieces.” He said, eyes narrowing at both of them. “Of course, if he were any closer to the answer, he’d have known he was in danger, being so close to check mate and all.”

Stiles reached over the board and picked up the King, while Scott glared daggers to Peter’s way.

“Don’t think for one second that I’m not worried about him. He’s the only family I got.” Peter defended, but his eyes were as dead and as insincere as ever. “It’s not my fault the guy’s not good at playing chess.”

“Did you even warn him?” Stiles questioned, voice breaking. But they didn’t wait for any answer, there was no need. Scott held his arm and led him out, and for the first time in three weeks, he had stopped shaking.

And if it was obvious Stiles found comfort squeezing the King’s piece inside his pocket, Scott didn’t dare mention it.

 

\---

 

Sometimes, he dreamed of his family. Of Aurora, his youngest cousin rolling with Cora on the grass, tickling each other to tears. Sometimes, he would dream of his father, his quiet yet gentle stance that reminded him of his pack members (Boyd).

Sometimes, he’d dream of them, too. That one weekend when they went for a swim in one of the lakes in the preserve after the full moon. Isaac had been afraid to dive in, but Erica tried to glomp on his back and they fought wolfed out near the water. Boyd opened a cooler and pulled out two bottles of beer. He remembered— _saw_ himself raising an amused eyebrow, and Boyd answering with that rare, mischievous smile of his.

But more often than that, he’d get nightmares. No vivid pictures, just of Aurora’s screams and the smell of burnt flesh— _family_ —in the air. The feel of Boyd’s heart stopping, his blood dense on Derek’s hands. Sometimes, he’d smell Kate’s perfume; hear the husky, playful timbre of her laughter.

And right now, he knew he was dreaming again. He felt a coat being draped on his shoulders and a warm hand clapping his back. Without looking, he knew that it was a deputy who was asked to escort him in the hospital where his uncle was. Laura was…somewhere. Probably at the police station, or the morgue right upstairs, he wasn’t sure.

His senses were in overdrive, it was a surprise he hadn’t wolfed out. It took all of him to push his claws back and that’s what he did, exactly. He clenched his fists and concentrated. He couldn’t wolf out here, when there are about dozens of people walking past him every minute, when there’s a young kid sitting right across from him—

He looked up quickly, which startled the kid and he immediately picked up the book on his lap on a poor attempt to divert his attention elsewhere. He was wearing pajamas with tiny egg faces on them, and it reminded him so much of Cora, and it _hurt_. Like a lightning bolt zapping him right into his chest and—

“Your eyes are blue now.” The kid declared in awe.

 _Shit._ He didn’t even notice that he was nearly shifting.

“They were green before, and they’re blue now. Do that again!” He said, now walking up close to Derek, but before he could reach him, a nurse shushed him away, telling him that his mother was looking for him.

Derek sat there all day, unmoving. From time to time, there would be either a nurse or a deputy, asking him questions about his uncle and the house fire. He watched himself answer their questions as politely and as patiently as he could, all the fight and anger drained out of him for being there way too long.

Then there was that kid again, dashing through the hall like an overactive rabbit. He stopped right in front of Derek, took his hand and slipped something in. “So you wouldn’t be so sad!” He said, smiling brightly. He looked down, and there, laid on his palm, was a white King chess piece.

He dashed right back where he came from, singing loudly, _“All the king's horses and all the king's men, couldn't put Humpty together again!”_

\---

It was day sixteen when Derek woke up for the first time. It had been midnight, or dawn. He couldn’t see much, but all the lights were off and not a living thing in sight. And for a moment, he thought he was back in his loft like nothing had happened, and all he needed to do was nurse himself out of his nightmares.

But then he heard a whimper, followed by a sniff and well, it seemed that he wasn’t alone after all. He tried to clench his fists, but only getting half into it. It was enough to get the circulation working in his arms and he stayed still, listening.

The whimpers sounded closer now. Was this a dream, as well? He tried to stand up, felt his muscles tensing at the movement but he didn’t stop. Eyes flashing, he looked around the room and there he saw someone— _Stiles_ , that much is evident now—huddled on the sofa opposite the operating table, his back turned to him.

Derek watched for a moment, watched the way Stiles’ shoulders were shaking, the way his body curled when he sucked in a deep breath. As quietly as he could, he stood up and walked to the sofa.

His fingers ghosted at Stiles’ nape, and the reaction was instantaneous. Stiles whipped his body to face him, his face a mess. And then he was grabbing Derek, embracing him with his whole body.

“Is this…is this…” Stiles was all out crying now.

  
“This isn’t a dream, Stiles. I promise you, it isn’t.” Derek said, squeezing Stiles just as hard.

“We were gonna call Cora. Deaton said, h—he said if you don’t wake up in five days, we’ll g-gonna have to—“

“You don’t have you. You don’t”. Derek said. He knew what Stiles was going to say. If he couldn't wake up, the next full moon might do it for him, and he knew what was going to happen to him. He’d heard stories of injured wolves turning feral. Putting them down would’ve been the safest for everyone.

Stiles pulled back, cupping his face with both hands as he pulled Derek’s face closer to his. He settled his forehand against his and flashed his eyes blue. He felt Stiles’ heartbeat pick up, and then let out a teary laugh and Derek wanted to beat himself up in the head for not seeing this sooner.

“How was everyone?” As much as he didn’t want to break the moment, he had to ask. He remembered the Oni’s sword merely inches away from piercing the Sheriff and Allison through his front, and he wanted, needed to make sure they were okay.

“Everyone’s fine. You—you were out for sixteen days. Derek, I can’t do that. You can’t do that to us. We thought you were—” Stiles hadn’t finished what he was going to say as it was kissed out of him. It has a certain force that Stiles had always been attracted to, and he felt himself opening up, kissing Derek just as hard.

‘So, why am I the King?” Derek whispered against his lips, and he was smiling and it hurt a little, if he were honest. But Stiles were smiling just as much and that made everything sting a little less. And he’s okay, they’re _all_ okay.

Stiles narrowed his eyes at him, unimpressed. “If you needed to ask that, then maybe you don’t deserve to be.”

Derek pulled him back in a close-mouthed kiss. “The young residents of Beacon Hills Kindergarten might disagree with you.”

And then Stiles smiled that same bright smile of his, and it felt like seeing it for the first time. “Yeah, they just might.”

 

\---

 

Stiles was backing up at the Argents' parking lot when he saw Derek’s car approaching. He had been excited to come home for the weekend; Cora's coming home, and he managed to contact everyone so they could all come home and celebrate. With everyone in College right now, it was hard for them to catch a break all together and if it took Lydia screaming on his ear for forcing her to catch a flight back home from Boston, he knew it’ll be worth it.

He hadn’t been fully out of his car when he felt Derek’s body pressing him against the door. The welcome home kisses he got were always so mind-blowing, that he sees to it to come home every weekend just to get as many as he could.

“Stop making out at our parking lot and get inside!” Allison yelled at them, amused.

This time, the pack was bigger, stronger.

Everyone was already there. Scott and Isaac were in the kitchen, preparing the food with Melissa. Lydia was sitting primly on a love seat, talking with Cora. _“Probably sharing world-domination tactics”_ , his mind supplied and he couldn’t help but be scared a little. Even Deputy Parrish was there; he’d been quite close to the gang since Allison and Kira decided to join the Sheriff’s department and they became partners.

It had been almost three years. The nogitsune certainly wasn't the last dark spirit that they'd encountered, and they'd had more near-death experiences than the first year since Scott was bitten. His nightmares didn't get any better, so were Derek's, and Scott's and Allison's and Lydia's. And maybe it'll take them three more years to feel free again, maybe ten. But Stiles on days like these, with the pack together, however rare, he felt himself healing.

Later in the evening, Cora announced that he got engaged last summer. Everyone cheered on, except Derek, of course. “You just turned twenty.” He said, and it almost sounded like a whine and Stiles’ heart melted a little.

“Like I’m the first person who got engaged at twenty. Come on, I need your support on this. He’s my first love.”

Derek looked on, his brows furrowed “And that’s supposed to make me feel better? First loves don’t always work out, you know that.”

“Hey!” Scott protested. “Allison is my first love, too. Look at us now, strong as ever.”

“I have a first-love story, too! Everyone does, now let’s move on.” Stiles exclaimed out of nowhere. He just wanted to change the subject, because first love meant crazy exes who burnt your family alive and that was something he’d like Derek to not be reminded of, ever.

“Stiles, honey, everyone knows of your obsession with me. So, you’re right, let’s move—.”

“Uh, I wasn’t talking about you, Lydia.”

That caught everyone’s attention. Scott had an eyebrow raised like he couldn’t believe him, either, so he continued.

“I had a first love. Like, when I was in Kindergarten? Mom was a Kindergarten teacher and she allowed me to sit in. And then, there’s this pair of really thoughtful siblings,” He said, and looked at Cora’s direction as realization dawned on her face.

“They made an impromptu play of ‘Humpy Dumpy’ for their little sister. To be honest, it was a shabby adaptation at best. The costume sucked and the delivery of lines sucked even harder, yadda yadda.” By then, he could feel Derek and Cora’s glares on him.

“Especially the King. Oh god, you guys should’ve seen him. He looked like he was about to puke on those poor kids. But they finished the play and they were great and everyone loved him, after all.” Stiles was smiling now, smiling _at him_.

“Really?” Derek said, amused.

“Really.” Stiles answered, looking right through him, right through his soul. “It was love at first sight.”

**Author's Note:**

> My first fanfic, un-beta/ed. I do apologise if there are some confusing phrasings and all.  
> Also, I've always assumed that Isaac, Erica and Boyd are a year younger than Scott and co., so the last part happened near three years post!nogitsune. I'd like the use a more consistent timeline but it seems TW is confused with theirs, too anyway. xD
> 
> Comments||Kudos||Bookmarks are love!


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